Keep Moving Forward (and Never Give Up)
by heyitsthattgirl
Summary: A series of Captain Swan one-shots. "We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things, because we're curious… and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths."
1. 1 Surprises

**Keep Moving Forward (and Never Give Up)**

_This is a series of one-off plots centering on Emma and Killian's relationship. Updated regularly. Cute, fluffy, funny, adorable Captain Swan ahoy._

* * *

><p>"We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things, because we're curious… and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths."<p>

-Walt Disney

* * *

><p><strong>Surprises<strong>

The chill that seemed to seep into every molecule of air had done nothing to assuage her anxiety about the looming threat that the Snow Queen had made. Nor did the flakes of frost that clung to the her hair - those loose morning curls she'd tousled all but deflated as she dragged her weary bones up the creaky flight of stairs. Despite all the icy threats (including the one to her own life only days before) and looming battles of less-than-equally-matched magical abilities, Emma still had to at least pretend to sheriff the enchanted hamlet. But between two regals throwing blasts of frozen magic around, she really had little time to police Storybrooke properly. Today she had finally settled in early at the station to plow through a mountain of calls and complaints that David had been trying his best to handle on his own.

She heaved a sigh as she turned the key to the loft, wanting nothing more than to kick off her boots and shovel something - _anything - _directly into her mouth. The scene that greeted her clenched something deep in her gut, and for a brief millisecond, she forgot all her present problems. Because there, sitting at the kitchen island with every food item that was quite possibly in the apartment, were Henry and Hook, milling about some book and chatting quietly.

"Hey Mom," Henry called over his shoulder as she unwrapped the scarf from her neck, tossing her keys toward the couch unceremoniously.

"Hey kid," Emma said slowly, eyeballing the mess strewn about the counter, cocking an eyebrow at the pirate who she found was now looking apologetically at her. "What have you two been getting into today…?"

She was slightly afraid of the answer. "Henry has been introducing me to some of the finer culinary offerings that this world has at its disposal." Killian began, rolling what looked like a Cheeto between his thumb and forefinger, "Though I must say much of the coloring appears to be quite unnatural."

"Ah." Emma nodded through a smirk, approaching the messy counter, "Let me guess. There are no Doritos or Hot Pockets in the Enchanted Forest?"

"Thankfully, no," Killian gave a small amused chuckle as she rounded the island and surveyed the full extent of damage wrought. "Apologies, love. The full presentation got rather out-of-hand rather quickly."

"Honestly," Emma began, leaning over and taking a peek at the book Henry was currently buried in, "David and Mary Margaret are getting used to Henry eating them out of house and home- Whatcha got there, kid?"

The barely-teenaged boy waved and mumbled something half-heartedly, which of course only piqued her interest (and slightly drove her up the wall - she wasn't quite sure how to handle teenaged boys yet.) "Sorry, didn't quite get that." She said. _Loudly_. Causing Henry to jump in his seat and, if she wasn't mistaken, an amused laugh to slip from Killian's lips.

"A book." He said flatly, shutting it with a thump and pushing it toward the pirate. "Thanks, Killian."

"Think nothing of it, lad," he stood, taking the item into his hand and giving the soft bound leather a gentle rub, "But I brought it for you. Have a look through it and we'll continue our discussion at a later date."

"Y-you're sure about that?"

"As sure as eggs."

Killian pushed the book back toward him and Henry smiled in gratitude. And then proceeded to hop down from the stool and bound toward the stairs leading to the loft he was still sharing with Emma. (Which he still hoped to rectify in finding a new place. Soon.)

"Uh, excuse me," Emma interrupted as he reached the base of the steps, "Aren't you forgetting something?" She _ahem'd _and craned her neck toward the mess of foodstuffs strewn about the kitchen.

"Sorry Mom, I'll clean up later. Homework." he bellowed, racing up the stairs before she could protest.

"Looks like you've been bested, Swan."

Emma dropped her head to the side and cocked a judgmental eyebrow at him. Which only caused his smile to widen. A toothy, devilish smile. "And what exactly _are _you doing here, hm?"

"As I said," he twirled his hand for emphasis, "Delivering an item to young Mr. Mills."

"That book?" she dropped her eyes and quickly began to clear away the mess of pizza rolls and half-eaten bagels (still nothing like the ones they used to get in Chelsea - which he reminded her about practically every day.)

"Aye," he began, standing and attempting to help clear the clutter. "Just a small trifle that I thought the lad would find insightful."

"What is it?" she asked as she returned a bag of chips to the cupboard and dumped a bowl of cereal into the sink.

"A bestiary," he said with a shrug, trying his best to keep up with the task at hand. "As well as general knowledge on where his kin hails from. Legends. Histories. Houses and lineages…"

Emma smiled to herself, capping a soda bottle and placing it back into the fridge. The fact that Killian had picked up on Henry's newfound interest in the social differences between his world and theirs was not lost on her. She turned on her heel and looked at Killian as he balanced a few plates in his hand and hook. He caught her eye and smirked. "What is it, love?"

"No, nothing…" she sighed, stepping forward and scooping up the dishes and plopping them into the sink, "It's just… Where did you get it?"

Killian chuckled slightly and leaned back on the island, crossing his arms as she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, "You mean, what price did I have to pay Gold for it?"

"So you did get it from him?" she said, almost disappointedly.

"Ah, now, I didn't say _that_."

He wriggled his eyebrows at her and stepped forward, closing the space between them rather quickly. Quicker than she had time to process. And there he was, inches from her and smiling down at her. From blue eyes to flushed lips, a smile so genuine and devilish she felt her pulse quicken beneath her skin. "I-if you didn't get it from Gold, who _did _you get it from?"

A low laugh rumbled from his throat, and she could feel him now. The whisper of his fingertips ghosting across her arm as he dipped his eyes to meet hers. The smell of the sea stitched into the soft leather that clung to him like sargassum. "I may have _procured _the item from a man who knows a thing or two about chronicling lands."

"Cryptic." she felt her eyebrow creep higher on her forehead, "So you stole it?"

"Pilfered, perhaps. But with good intent."

"Great," she sighed, leaning back into the counter. Which then made her realize that he had inched them both back so far that now there was no where left to go. "Next thing we'll have some powerful magician looking for his stolen property."

"I somehow doubt that."

"Oh? You manage to run a background check on the citizens of Storybrooke who are _least likely to kill you in your sleep_ before you stole from them?"

He laughed again, this time reaching out and twining his fingers loosely in the wave of her hair. "I never said it came from someone in Storybrooke."

She felt the breath hitch in her throat as he managed to close the final gap between them, his thighs bumping against hers as he trailed his fingers up from her hair to her neck. Tracing the lines of her pulse up to the curve of her jaw. As if she were brail and he wanted to read every word of her. He finally brought his hand to her face, drawing up to the nearly-healed gash on her forehead. A small hiss of air seeped from his lips as he studied her. "I'm glad to see you're on the mend, Emma."

"Don't change the subject," she muttered, trying her best not to sound breathless at his careful touch. "If it didn't come from Storybrooke…" Her eyes flicked up to catch his, "I can't see enchanted bestiaries being a top seller on amazon."

The joke went over his head (it was practically at cruising altitude) but he laughed anyway, leaning forward and planting a feather-light kiss on her scar. "It came with me."

"What?" she pulled back, though the flush to her cheeks betrayed her level tone as she searched his eyes quickly.

"From the Enchanted Forest. It was one of only a handful of items I managed to secure through the portal."

"Why?" she continued to study the blue of his eyes, "What else did you bring over?"

Killian's face went stony and he put a few inches between them, now. As if she'd hit some kind of nerve. Which was preposterous, she thought. "Not much else. Nothing larger than I could carry."

With that, he turned and went back to clearing off the remaining dishes from the counter. He and Henry really had made quite the mess.

"You brought it… For Henry?" he heard from behind him, and he felt a smile tug at his lips again. As if he couldn't deny her voice a genuine reaction from his body.

"Aye, that I did." he said without looking back at her. Knowing he wouldn't be able to control himself if he did.

But before he could change his mind, he felt her. Warm and soft and gentle. Her arms wrapped around his middle and her head resting between his shoulder blades as she clung to him. Genuine and sweet and breathing in time with him. A moment passed. He set the dishes back down and twisted around to take her by the arms and gently hold her as to stare right into the green of her eyes. She just smiled.

"Always full of surprises, Killian Jones."


	2. 2 The Storm

**Keep Moving Forward (and Never Give Up)**

_I hope you're all enjoying where our beautiful cupcakes are going lately in canon - cause I know I am! This entry into my little ongoing one-off venture is sort of a reflection of where I think these two lovestruck idiots might end up toward the end of 4A. But really, it's so vague that I ask you to draw your own assumptions and conclusions and really, just enjoy :)_

* * *

><p><strong>The Storm<strong>

It was like she'd been drowning for months, breathless, gasping for oxygen, scratching her way through a rip current that only dragged her farther out to sea. The pain of loss and betrayal stabbing at her like icy waves rolling over her as she treaded water to keep afloat. Certainly at one point she thought she might actually drown, thought she couldn't actually handle it. When the force inside her burst and cut jagged across her heart.

It was only when she realized that _she_ wasn't the one drowning - she was the one who had to throw out the life line. That he was the thing that controlled the uncontrollable. That stitched the magic into her veins. Belief was power and he was her strength. And he was drowning, soul filling with an icy darkness that he couldn't escape, fingers blackened by curses and backwards deals.

"_I'll hurt you." _

He'd pushed her away, trying his best to lance her heart with cruel words. Even when his eyes betrayed his tongue and she could read the truth on his lips. _"I don't love you." _She'd reached out, aching to feel the rough of his jaw on the soft of her palm. Pleading with him not to shut her out. But he'd only backed away. Putting fathoms between them and leaving her alone on an island of cruel solitude.

"_Come back to me."_

A stormy gust of North Atlantic air rattled the floorboards of the unsealed deck, pulling her out of the raging maelstrom inside her heart. Her fingertips humming with unspent magic, she curled them into her palms and swallowed down the memories. The harbor's waters below bobbed and swayed moored boats, the green foam of an approaching storm lathering against the concrete walls and wooden docks.

She heard the balcony door click shut behind her, the air in her lungs suddenly seeping out from a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Footsteps on the splintered deck. A sharp intake of breath. The sound of not being alone.

"You're cold."

His voice sent waves of warmth through her body, the crackling of her magic finally subsiding as only white hot heat licked its way down her spine. His hand was on her arm, bare and exposed against the whipping wind and salty spray of the approaching storm. Her skin turned to butter, melting into his touch as he rubbed gently to work out the ice in her blood. She only sighed, the tiniest smile tugging at her lips as she let her fingers graze past his.

"It doesn't bother me." She said at last, feeling his chest behind her now, his other arm encircling her waist as he leaned his head against hers.

"Come inside, love," His voice was soft, so close to her ear that she could feel the heat of his breath sweeping away the chill of the storm. "Or shall I be forced to carry you in myself?"

She huffed out a laugh while her heart danced wildly inside her chest, as if each syllable that dripped from his silver tongue was a beat of her heart. "I'd like to see you try."

Feeling his chest rumble out a rough and utterly knee-knocking laugh, she relaxed into his arms as he planted a soft kiss behind her ear. "Don't tempt me, Miss Swan," He huffed, drawing her body into his, rocking gently as the wind tumbled across them, before whispering quietly and pleadingly into her hair, "Come in Emma."

"I will…" She muttered, more breathless than she'd intended. As if the rocking of his hips in time with hers and the heat of his fingers on her skin were sucking the air right from her lungs. "D-do you think they're alright? Do you think they made it home?"

"Without a doubt," he murmured, his mouth still distractingly close to her ear. The deepness of his voice rumbling down her spine. "Now how about you come on home to me?"

A short sigh flittered past her lips as she turned, at last, to face him. His blue eyes deep with affection and concern and utter, hopeless love. "Killian…"

His head dipped lower to catch her eyes in his, his fingers quickly and deftly tucking loose strands of wild blonde hair behind her ears as the wind kicked up again. "Yes, princess?"

She chuckled at that, twining her fingers into the collar of his shirt and dragging him into her. His knees bumping against her legs as she brushed her nose softly against his. Strained, hot passion boiled from somewhere deep inside of her as she felt him envelop her, his arms claiming her body as she pulled him closer. As if they would be safe from the wind and rain and oncoming storm by just being one and never breaking apart. And maybe, she thought, they actually would…

Her lips found his, gently and delicately and all at once, a kiss that didn't whisper future promises or past regrets or distant yearnings. It was _here _and _now _and everything they both needed. A soft embrace, a loving kiss, a sweet and careful vow that _here we are _and _this is it_. What would have scared her half to death in the past was everything keeping her going now. Almost losing him, even after he'd promised she never would. Watching him drown in the darkness and fearing he'd never make it out. Here he was. In her arms. A part of her. The broken bits of their hearts utterly and totally filled in by one other.

"Okay…" she finally said, breaking the seal of their lips and letting her fingers fall away from his shirt, though only to smooth the wrinkles she'd creased into it. "Take me home, Killian Jones."

With that, a bright smile flooded his face and his hand wrapped up in hers. Giving her a small but reassuring tug, they made their way into the seaside apartment, into the warmth of a crackling fireplace and smell of freshly brewed coffee. And as the door to the upper deck clicked shut, the cold wind and approaching Atlantic storm were replaced by soft light and warmth and the feeling of his hand in hers. A woolen blanket draped across her shoulders as he sat her down on the couch. A cup of coffee poured and placed into her hands. The rain began to patter softly against the windows as she took her first sip of the drink, Killian sitting beside her and twining their fingers together once more, and she knew… She'd never have to face another storm alone again.


End file.
